


Poetry of the Sweetest Kind

by empty_junkyard_gargoyle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fantasizing, Fantasy, Gay Sex, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Multiple Relationships, Oral Sex, Pining, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_junkyard_gargoyle/pseuds/empty_junkyard_gargoyle
Summary: Leon comes across Merlin one night in a darkened corridor with Arthur, teaching him poetry. But the King of Camelot isn't the only one who's privy to these lessons, as Leon comes to find out. It seems there's other as well, and maybe, just maybe, he himself can get a lesson in poetry, if he's lucky.
Relationships: Elyan/Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Leon/Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Mordred (Merlin), Merlin/Percival (Merlin)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 233





	1. Poetry with the Knights of Camelot

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the summary sucks, I tried. So, Merlin's giving out "poetry" lessons and Leon walks in on several others' lessons. I'm also sorry if it's not written well, this is the first smut story I've written in years, I'm a little rusty. Hope you enjoy!

The first time Leon had heard of poetry being used as an excuse for some late-night intimate excursion, it had been in a vacant corridor with his King and Merlin. They stood there, looking the same as ever but they were shifty, and sweaty, they could barely meet his eyes.

“Merlin, tell Leon what we’re doing,” Arthur looked like a deer caught in the line of a crossbow.

Merlin glanced between the two of them, then in a low rough voice said, “We’re…I’m teaching him some poetry.”

“Poetry?” he couldn’t believe the excuse they came up with. He’d heard better lies from a drunken Gwaine. 

“I…love poetry.”

And then Merlin flashed one of those goofy smiles of his, “I’m as surprised as you are! He can’t get enough of it!”

Obviously lying. But they didn’t have much option, a married King and his servant? But really, they could’ve come up with a better excuse. “I’ll…leave you to your poetry then,” he told them and moved as quickly past them as he could.

And he tried to forget that awkward encounter, he tried really hard. But the more he tried to forget, the more the thought of the two of them together plagued him. 

There was nothing wrong with Arthur doing…poetry with Merlin, even if he was married to Gwen, he was surprisingly perfectly okay with them together. They certainly were quite loyal to one another, even if they’d never really admit it.

No, the problem with them was that now he’d seen them in the corridor, sweaty and shifty, he couldn’t stop thinking about them in that way. And he wondered, if he had come a bit later, what would he have walked in on?

Would Arthur have Merlin against the wall, clothing askew, all tongue and teeth against that alabaster flesh? Would Merlin be squirming against his King, begging for him to take him? Would they be there, the younger man’s long legs wrapped around the King’s hips, nails biting the skin of his broad back, and said King pounding hard into the heat of his servant?

Or would it be the other way around? Merlin may be thin and lanky, but he had a hold over Arthur that no other, not even the Queen, had. Would he have Arthur pressed against the wall, knees weak, nimble fingers roaming over his sun-kissed skin, touching him in places that only the most privy could touch? Would he take him gentle, rocking his body against his elder’s, speaking sweet nothings in his ear?

The thoughts, the images, make Leon’s body shiver and a tingly heat coil in his gut, one that he’s only ever felt when he longs for a woman’s touch. But he can’t help it, his body simply reacts, and he finds that he doesn’t quite mind. 

He wants to ask them about their…poetry, but he doesn’t want to pry in the private affairs of his King. So he’ll just simply imagine their excusions. 

*

The second time he hears the term poetry used in the sense of the first, it’s again from Merlin’s mouth, but he’s with someone other than Arthur.

It’s again, late at night, and he’s patrolling the halls when he hears something coming from the kitchens. He has to investigate, it’s his job, jis duty to protect Camelot, so he goes to the door and listens a moment.

“You taste so delicious,” a low voice, one he knows too well, breathes. “So sweet.”

Leon’s never thought himself a peeper, but his body moves before he even knows what’s going on, and he’s looking through the cracked doorway. He sees Merlin there, holding someone to a table, but it’s not Arthur.

No, it’s another knight, a roguish man with luxurious dark locks who likes to drink too much and loves to eat apples. He’s leaning back against a table, his chest on display and the younger man pressed up against him, their hips rubbing together.

“You’re such a _tease_ ,” Gwaine groans, a hand moving to the other’s waist.

“But you love it, don’t you?” Merlin’s voice is low, husky with need, and breathy.

It sends a shiver down Leon’s spine and he feels that heat pool in his gut again. He must’ve made a noise at that because he notices eyes on the door and a voice calling out. 

“Merlin, Gwaine,” Leon greets, opening the door a bit more. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, why he’s revealing himself. “Everything all right?”

Gwaine flashes one of those grins of his. And Merlin, he smiles too, his ears turning pink. “Leon,” they both say, their voices low in their throats.

“We’re uh…” it’s that lie again, catching on the younger man’s plump lips. “I’m teaching Gwaine poetry.”

“I…I see,” his throat is dry and he feels like he’s burning. “Carry on then,” he closes the door quickly, and he can hear gentle laughter as he moves down the hall.

That night, new fantasies sprout. Instead of his King and Merlin, it’s the servant and the rogue, and he wonders about how they would be together. Would Gwaine take Merlin from behind, the younger man pressed up against the table, crying out in ecstasy? Or would Merlin be taking Gwaine, the rogue’s legs around his thin hips, his face buried in that silky hair? 

Either one sends shudders down the knight’s body, the heat pooling in his gut, and his member twitches in his breeches. He doesn't do anything about it, not until he's hidden away in his chambers where no one can walk in, and only then, when the door is locked and his clothes tossed onto the floor and he's laying in bed, does he let the fantasies flood his mind and allow his body the release it so desperately craves.

Later on, when he's sobered up and spent, he wonders about his King and Gwaine and Merlin. Does Arthur know about Merlin and Gwaine? Does Gwaine know about the servant and the King? Are they all okay with everything?

*

The third time it happens, it's in the stables, night has fallen and he sees the light of a torch. He thinks it's Merlin there working, mucking out the stables, and decides to check on him. They're friends afterall and he doesn't like to see his friend taking on more than he should.

But when he walks in, he finds that Merlin isn't alone. He can't see him, he seems to be in the far back of the stable where the hay is kept, but he can hear him. The younger man is with someone, moaning lowly, begging them…

 _"Please,"_ he moans. _"Oh Gods,_ nnn please, just…just _fuck me."_

The sounds of his pleasure, his husky voice begging, pleading, it goes straight to Leon's groin and a quiet moan rolls in the back of his throat.

"Hello?" another voice calls out, the sounds of sex stopping much to the servant's annoyance.

He knows that voice. "Elyan?" he asks when really, he should be running away. 

"Uh…y-yeah," the knight hears the shifting of hay and a whimper. "Did…did you need something? Is there a problem?"

"No problem." Keep it cool, Leon, he thinks to himself as the whimpers of need continue. "I saw the light, thought it was Merlin up too late again."

"I'm okay, Leon," the younger man's husky reply comes from near where Elyan is. "Just p-poetry."

Oh god, that voice of his, it makes Leon shudder. "E-enjoy your…poetry," he stutters the words, his body is on fire, "G'night."

He hears his friends' bids of good night as he escapes the stables. He doesn't get far, though, before his body makes him stop. He tucks himself into an alcove, hidden from anyone who may pass by, and he reaches into his breeches.

Images of his friends, of Elyan and Merlin rolling around in the hay, they fill his mind. He doesn't have to wonder who's on the receiving end, Merlin's begging told him everything he needed to know, and it fuels his own need.

A dark toned body rutting against a slim beautiful one, long legs wrapped tight around Elyan's hips, hands gripping taut muscle. The knight is rough, face buried in a slender neck, teeth nipping and biting, as he fucks the servant into the hay. They moan, Merlin needy and begging for release. Or maybe Merlin’s on his hands and knees, face pressed down in the hay, and Elyan kneels behind him, mounting him like an animal and having his way with the younger man.

Leon moans too, pumping his hand on his member, as he imagines the young man with the raven hair writhing in ecstasy beneath his comrade - no, beneath him. A coil tightens in his gut as the young man in his mind hits his limit, spilling his seed over his smooth chest, and the coil snaps. He comes hard, a groan in the back of his throat, and his chest heaves, breath coming in gasps.

 _Oh God,_ what is happening to him?

*

It’s his day off and he’s visiting the libraries when he hears the poetry excuse for a fourth time, again with Merlin - why’s he always walking in on the servant when he’s with someone else? He’s walking down an isle, eyes scanning the shelves, when he hears the moaning and while he doesn’t know what’s being said, he can hear soft-spoken words.

Peeking around a corner, he finds them.

Percival, for once, isn’t wearing his chainmail, in fact, he’s not even wearing a tunic and his breeches are down to his knees. Merlin sits in his lap, straddling him, one hand on his thick neck and the other between their bodies. His breeches are on the floor and his hips are sliding against the knight’s, slowly, methodically, and his mouth is on skin, leaving wet kisses.

“Oh _Gods,_ Percy, you’re so big,” the servant says, his voice breathy. “I want you inside of me.”

Leon’s breath hitches as he watches one of his comrade’s large hands slide down from a thin hip, across a plump cheek, down along the crack, and stops underneath where Merlin’s most private area is. A large finger swirls around, causing the young man to whine with want and then gasp as the finger pushes its way inside of him.

_“Oh Gods, yes.”_

Without permission, his hand slides down to his groin to palm at his hardening member while he watches that slender young man rock his hips against the intruding finger. 

Another is inserted and slides alongside the other, making the raven-haired man moan and his hips twitch. “I want you now, Percy. _Please._ No more teasing.”

A low chuckle from the gentle giant. “Patience. I don’t wanna hurt you.” His quiet voice is rough, husky, “Just a moment longer.” His fingers work more, thrusting into Merlin, until he removes them, and when he does, a whine is pulled from the younger’s mouth.

The two kiss, briefly, and Merlin shifts his body. He raises himself up, leaning against the large knight, and Percival presses the head of his impressive cock against the other’s ass. They move together, one sliding down and the other pushing up, his cock disappearing into a plump ass, and both groaning with the things they’re feeling.

 _“Fuck,”_ Leon groans deep in his throat, he’s so hard, and he leans back against the book shelf.

There’s a gasp and a soft stuttering “H-hello?” from the servant.

The eldest knight silently curses to himself. “Um…h-hi,” he calls out from behind the shelf. “Sorry for…for interrupting…” his face is so hot and he’s sure he’s as red as a tomato.

“L-Leon?” Percival asks, fear touching his voice.

“Y-yeah. Poetry, right?”

He hears a hum of confirmation, from Merlin is sounds like. “Yeah, p-poetry.”

“I’ll…um…I’ll leave you to it.”

He starts walking away, embarrassed for and of himself, and the low moans of comrade and friend follow him after a long moment of silence. When he hears them, he’s several shelves away, and he has to stop, his body refuses to continue. And his hand, that wandering twitching hand, slides down into his breeches to stroke his aching member.

He bites his lip, keeping the groan inside, and listens to the sounds of sex. He can imagine them, Merlin arching his lithe body against hard muscle, hips rocking against a thick cock, slender fingers gripping broad shoulders, and those pink lips parted. Percival sits there, large hands on narrow hips, his own thrusting up into a tight velvet heat, mouth against a smooth chest, kissing softly, maybe even sucking on a pert nipple.

Leon’s orgasm hits him hard, without warning, coating the inside of his breeches white, making stars burst behind closed eyes. His breath comes in heavy gasps, forced quiet so as not to alert the couple, and he has to lean against a shelf for balance, his knees weak.

Dear Lord, he thinks, what is that man doing to him? Because obviously, Merlin is doing something to him, just the image of him in the throes of passion cause his groin to stir. He shudders, feeling his body warming again so soon after play, and the moans aren’t helping, he can still hear them.

So, he leaves, going to his chambers for more privacy, allowing his mind to fantasize from the comfort of his bed.

*

He’s walking along a corridor, it’s late at night again, the moon is high in the night sky and the stars are shimmering, when he hears an all-too familiar sound. He’s pulled towards the man of his fantasies, to the end of the hall and up a staircase, and he finds him there, just on the other side of a door, on the tower roof.

He knows it’s Merlin, those sounds he makes, his rough voice, they’re ingrained into his brain, seared into his mind. It’s impossible to forget that voice.

But this isn’t the Merlin he’s been shown. He’s not begging, not pleading, for another to fill him, to fuck him. He’s not sliding sensually against another body or lightly grinding his hips with another’s to cause sweet friction of the groin. And he’s not soft-spoken, not stuttering or blushing, not crying out to God above.

No, that’s fallen on his partner, on the youngest knight of Camelot. Mordred.

He wouldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t seeing the two of them with his own eyes. But there they are, on the roof, Mordred on his knees, toned pale back arched against the stone, fingers twitching, dark curls wild, and hips held in a tight grip, snapping together with another’s, with Merlin’s.

And Merlin, he’s behind the young knight, hips slamming into his partner’s hard and fast, long fingers bruising skin, a dark smirk playing on pink lips, eyes glimmering brightly in the night. He’s growling low in his chest, much like a rabid dog, lewd words coming from his mouth. 

“So tight, _so hot,”_ he says, his voice deeper than he’s ever heard, “You like it when I take you like this, don’t you? You’re like a _bitch in heat.”_

Mordred whines low at that, shuddering. “For you,” he breathes, “Only for you.”

“That’s right, for me. You’re mine.”

Leon shudders at the statement, he’s never heard such possession from someone who’s usually so giving, so free, and it makes his body burn. He’s so hot, from watching them, from hearing Merlin’s dark tone, it brings about a whole new set of fantasies. He palms himself through the material of his breeches.

“I-I’m your’s,” the young knight repeats. “Only your’s.” His hand moves, reaching for his neglected cock which is dripping onto the stone beneath him.

 _“Don’t you dare,”_ another growl, a command, and the boy whines.

“Pl-please,” he begs.

The servant doesn’t say anything, only reaches a hand down the boy’s spine, nails scraping skin, fingers wrapping around a pale neck, and he pulls him up, pulls him close so the toned back arches against a smooth chest. The boy’s hands move, one gripping the wrist near his throat and the other on the forearm at his side. Hips are moving slower now, still hard, but slower and it makes him whine.

Merlin’s lips touch a shoulder, kissing briefly, and then his teeth are in flesh, biting hard, and the younger male cries out in ecstasy, his seed bursting from his member, and his body spasms against his elder’s. The servant groans, climaxing as well, fingers twitching in their places.

 _“Mine,”_ he growls low, “You understand?”

Mordred nods, eyes fluttering distantly. _“Your’s,”_ he repeats.

Leon leans against a wall, heart racing, chest heaving with every gasping breath, his member aching for release. It’s his comrade’s cry, that keening sound when teeth met flesh that’s doing him in.

 _God,_ he’s so _weak._ Images are flashing in his mind, of Merlin taking _him_ instead of his comrade, rutting _him_ from behind, gripping _him_ so tight that he leaves bruises, claiming _him_ as his own.

He climaxes hard at that last thought, of Merlin burying his teeth in his shoulder, and his body shudders against stone. His eyes are barely open, seeing stars bursting in the darkness of the stairway.

“Leon?” a voice asks.

He looks towards it and finds the man of his fantasies standing there, Mordred at his side, both dressed in their nightclothes. The servant is calm, his eyes twinkling in the dark, a small smirk playing on his lips, one hand on the back of his partner’s neck. The young knight is red in the face, shifting where he stands, hands wringing the hem of his tunic.

He gulps. “H-hi.”

“Hi, Leon,” Merlin replies in that husky voice, causing a shiver to run down his elder’s spin. “Out for a stroll?”

He gives a short nod. “You?”

Long fingers flex gently, briefly gripping the youngest male’s neck, and the boy leans into the touch. “Poetry. Young Mordred here loves it. Don’t you?” the question is asked with a hint of a growl.

A shudder takes ahold of the boy and he nods, there’s a lustful gleam in his light blue eyes. “Y-yes, so much. Merlin’s an amazing poetry teacher.” That earns a gentle carress.

“It’s late, run on to bed.”

Mordred obeys silently with a nod, moving down the staircase with a limp, and the two men watch until he disappears from sight.

“I’m off to bed too,” Merlin comments, taking a step closer to the elder knight. “You have a good night, Leon,” he almost purrs the words. His hand brushes the other’s, just the fingertips, and it sends electricity dancing through his system.

He nods, words suddenly stuck in his throat. Merlin touched him, it was only a small touch, only a few seconds at most, and he gives him a smile, one of those blinding ones that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

He watches him disappear into the darkness of the staircase, a tuneless melody on his lips. 

Leon’s losing himself, isn’t he?

*


	2. Poetry with the Immortal Knight

Over the next few days, he finds himself seeking the servant out, wanting to feel that touch again, that electricity that makes his skin tingle, maybe even see his dazzling smile, anything really. He’s desperate for something, _anything, **everything**_ \- he’s never wanted a man, _no_ , never wanted _anyone_ , the way he wants for Merlin.

He wants him so bad. God help him, he wants him.

Under him, screaming his name. Riding him with wild abandon. In the stables. No, the kitchen as a late night snack. Anywhere. Everywhere. He wants to see him writing in ecstasy. He wants to feel him at his backside, mounting him like an animal. Any position, any way possible, he doesn’t care. 

He just. wants. Merlin. He _needs_ him.

But how does he even ask? He can’t just walk right up to the younger man and ask him for sex. Can he? No, he can’t. He has to ask someone, or well, several someones, get their input on his problem. They’ll be able to help him.

So, he asks. He gathers them all together - Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, and Mordred - at the Rising Sun, offering to buy the first round, and they take a corner table. He thought of inviting the King, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t pry in his King’s private affairs. But it’s okay, he has several others he can ask. 

So, when the drinks arrive, he does just that, he simply asks. “So…poetry…” okay, he can’t ask. He can’t get the words out.

They look at him a moment, then at each other, and then back at him. He feels his face heating.

“What about it, Mate?” Gwaine asks. He has a smile on his face that tells the eldest knight he already knows what he’s wanting.

“Well um, the…the poetry lessons…” God, he’s stuttering so bad right now. “You know…? And I…well, that is to say…um…”

Gwaine’s grinning now. And Elyan’s smiling. Percival’s blushing. And Mordred is just staring blankly.

“You want a poetry lesson of your own,” the youngest knight says, his emotions well hidden.

He laughs, a short nervous chuckle, hand running through his blond curls, and he nods. “I uh, I kept finding you all and just…well, it’s hard to say…but I um - ”

“Can’t get the idea out of your head?” Elyan offers, he nods again.

“How did it all start? I mean…did you ask, did he? I don’t know what to do.” There, he finally said it.

They’re quiet for a moment, the four of them, thinking back in their minds, and Leon watches them, waiting with bated breath.

“I thought I pulled a muscle in my shoulder during practice, he checked it, told me I had a knot there, massaged it, and it got um,” Percival pauses, glancing down to his lap, looking for the words. “I couldn’t help it, and he knew what was wrong and he um, he offered to help me out. I couldn’t say no.” 

A light blush touches his face and the eldest knight stares, they all do. That’s the most the gentle giant’s ever said at any given time.

“Well, for me, Merls and I got drunk, and he took me back to my room,” the rogue says then his eyes narrow in thought. “It’s all a little fuzzy but I think he came onto me, not that I mind, I love the man,” he smiles at that. “Been buggering ever since.”

He nods and then looks to Elyan and Mordred who’re sitting across the table from him.

“It was in the woods,” the dark knight starts, “He had to find some special plants that Gaius needed, but it was in an area where bandits like to hang out, so I went with him for protection. We were just talking and joking around and he just looked so happy, and I just couldn’t help myself. I kissed him.” He chuckles, thinking back on the memory, “For a moment, I was scared, I thought maybe I ruined our friendship, but then he kissed back. And we only got closer after that.”

He nods to this too, understanding how the man must’ve felt. Then he looks to the youngest knight. “And you?”

Mordred rubs the back of his neck, staring down into his drink. “We um…we were fighting, arguing, I’m not sure what about,” but something in his eyes says he remembers, but the eldest knight doesn’t press for information. “It just…it got so heated and he pushed me up against the wall and I um…” his cheeks start turning red, _“Gods,_ the look he was giving me,” he shudders, “Somehow it lead to us kissing and just…y-yeah, it just…happened.”

“I see. Was he rough then too?” he’ll blame the ale on how blunt that question is.

The youngest knight only nods as an answer.

“What’s he like?” he asks this to them all. Yep, he’s definitely blaming the ale. But it’s okay, he’s finally getting the answers he needs.

“Sweet and gentle,” Percival answers simply.

“Very needy for me,” Elyan says, “And we’re a bit rough.”

Gwaine smiles, “Kinky, just…kinky. There was this one time with honey - ” 

“He’s like a god!” Mordred interrupts, his voice a bit too loud, drawing unnecessary attention from the other patrons and he blushes, shrinking in on himself. “S-sorry,” he mumbles. Looks like the ale’s getting to him too.

Leon smiles, as do the others. “So…um…I know he tops with Mordred but what about the rest of you?” This he definitely has to know, his fantasies have him doing both.

“Bottom, always,” Elyan says. “Never really thought ‘bout what it’d be like to take it.”

“Oh, Mate, you’re missing out. Like our young friend here said, he’s like a God. Gives it just as good as he takes it.”

“So, you’ve let him…?” he can’t finish the question.

Gwaine nods, “Oh yeah, I don’t care who gives and takes as long as it’s good. And boy, lemme tell ya, it’s _good.”_

“I’ll keep that in mind.” And he will, he means it. He looks at Percival.

“Takes it, but he’s usually in control. Very…dominating,” he nods once at the word.

“And we already know about how Mordred likes it,” the rogue wiggles his eyebrows, causing the younger male to hide his face. 

“So, you’ve never taken him?” he asks the boy.

Mordred shifts sharply, eyes wide, “Gods no!” he exclaims. “That’s just…no…I could never - I mean, once, I thought about it, but no, I couldn’t…not to him…he’s just so…and I just…” he groans, at a loss for words.

“He worships him,” the gentle giant answers with a smile and the boy hides his face again.

“So, what about Arthur?” he surprises himself with the question. He hadn’t even been thinking about the King, nor his escapades with the servant.

They look at him, even Mordred who peeks up over his arm, and then glance between each other.

“What about him?” Elyan asks.

“He and Merlin, what about their…poetry lessons? I wanted to ask him, but I can’t. It’s not my place.”

“Oh they’re not buggering,” Gwaine says with conviction. “Merls won’t get between the Princess and his wife. He may sleep around but he’s got standards. Though, he did once say he wanted to.”

Leon raises a brow at that. “But…I caught them…in a corridor.” The eyes are on him, shocked and startled. Immediately, the men are asking for details, and he provides. “Well, it was awhile back, when all those weird things were happening - doors slamming shut, torches blowing out in a gust of wind,” he sees Percival rub his arm where a newly pink scar rests, “the chandelier falling on the Round Table? Those things?”

They nod. How could anyone forget? Everyone was in a fright and rumors of Uther’s ghost floated around for ages.

“Well, I was patrolling and came across the two of them, they were in a dark corridor, and they looked…well, like they’d been caught doing something they didn’t want anyone to know about. It was all suspicious and more so when Merlin said he was teaching Arthur poetry. Obviously, he wasn’t.”

“Nah, Merls wasn’t teaching him poetry, good excuse though, right?” Gwaine grins. “But they weren’t buggering either.”

“They weren’t? But…they were just so…” he’s not even sure how to describe it.

The rogue nods, “Yeah, I know whatcha mean, but they’re not. Nah, Merls told me ‘bout that. He said something ‘bout the Princess setting Uther’s ghost free and they were sneaking ‘round trying to stop him from killing anybody.”

“Oh.”

“And like I said, Merls has standards. He won’t sleep with a taken man.”

Leon nods to this, then starts to let his mind wander. He’s learned a lot tonight. But still, there’s something he needs advice on. He’s still not sure how to go about asking Merlin for a “poetry” lesson.

He downs the rest of his tankard and orders more, except for Mordred who’s leaning heavily against Elyan.

“So, one last thing,” he starts. “How do I ask for…you know,” he makes a motion with his hands, though honestly, he’s not sure if the motion conveys his issue.

“Just ask,” the gentle giant says. “Just walk right up and ask him.”

“Or just kiss him. Worked for me,” Elyan answers.

Gwaine nods. “Don’t beat around the bush, just ask like Percy said.”

“Say you want him,” Mordred answers with a slight slur to his voice. He’s drunk, and he hasn’t even finished one drink yet. “Look ‘im in the eyes an’ jus…jus’ tell ‘im you want ‘im to fuck ya,” he giggles on the lewd word.

“Looks like someone’s had a bit too much,” Elyan starts to stand. “I’m gonna get him to his chambers. Good luck in your conquests, Leon,” he says, pulling the youngest knight’s arm over his shoulder. “G’night.”

They bid ‘good night’ and watch the two walk away, or well, it’s more like Elyan dragging a sack of rocks with the way Mordred leans on him.

“So…just ask then?” 

He gets two nods. “Just ask,” Percival confirms.

“Though, maybe not how our young friend said to, unless of course you’re interested in a rough n’ rowdy time,” Gwaine comments with a smile. “But if that’s what you want then who’m I to say no?”

“I won’t lie, I did imagine it after seeing him and Mordred on the tower roof,” it’s one of his favorite fantasies already, but he’s not sure about it. “But I’ve never…you know…with a man.”

The rogue nods in understanding. “Definitely don’t go that route. Merls wouldn’t jump yer bones like he does Mordred’s, he’d be a lot gentler, but it ain’t a good place to start unless ya really wanna.”

“He wouldn’t do that anyway, not your first time with him. He’s very considerate in that way.”

“In a lot of ways,” Leon says. Because Merlin is considerate, he’s kind and compassionate, and he’s so giving and lovable. “You guys were a lot of help, thank you.”

“No problem,” Gwaine says while Percival just nods.

“I’m gonna get going, got a lot to think about,” he starts to stand and then thinks of something else to ask. “Do you guys always do it where you can be found?”

That earns him a grin from the rogue and a blush from the giant.

“Most of the time,” Gwaine answers, “It’s part of the fun.”

“Only sometimes. I like the bedroom more, but sometimes…” Percival trails for a moment, “Like in the library.”

Leon nods. He’s not against doing anything where prying eyes can see, but he’d rather have the privacy of his chambers than anything else. “Thanks again. G’night.”

They bid him ‘good night’ too and he leaves to think about the conversation tonight. He really does have a lot to think about, and he has to find a way to approach Merlin and ask him for a poetry lesson. But now that he’s sought the advice of his comrades, his friends, he doesn’t feel quite so nervous.

*

Leon has a plan. He’s going to find Merlin, he’s going to take him aside, and he’s going to ask him for a poetry lesson. Simple as that. His nerves are quivering just at the thought of talking to the servant, but he’s going to ignore them and just. ask.

He finds him the next day after training, he’s sitting on a crate in the armory, a bracer on his knee and a polishing cloth in his hand. He’s focused, eyes on the metal, tongue between teeth, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, and Leon’s heart pounds in his chest.

The other knights are there too, they all came in together, and he wants them out. He can’t ask, let alone talk, with them all there. So, he takes his sweet time removing his armor, they flash him looks from time to time. Eventually, he nods once at them, telling them with a look of his own to get out.

Gwaine smirks and walks out with the others after giving the elder knight a ‘thumbs up’. Elyan is the same, without the smirk. Percival is quiet, as always, but he gives the man a small smile. Mordred follows, head down to hide the faint blush on his cheeks - does he remember the conversation from last night?

Leon takes a moment to gather himself once the door closes. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, his nerves settle but only a fraction. It’s now or never.

“Merlin?”

“Hm?” he doesn’t look up from his work.

“Can I…um…can I ask you something?” he moves closer, he has to.

He looks up then, a playful smile on his plump pink lips. “You just did,” he jests. But then he sees something in the man, his nervousness?, and he straightens up, the playful glint disappearing. “What do you need, Leon?”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I um… I would like to ask…” he lets out a breath that shudders. He just has to say it. Tell him what he wants. 

_“Just walk right up and ask him.” “Or just kiss him. Worked for me.” “Don’t beat around the bush, just ask like Percy said.” “Say you wan’ ‘im. Look ‘im in the eyes an’ jus…jus’ tell ‘im you wan’ ‘im t’ fuck ya.”_

Right. Just ask. But not like Mordred said to, definitely not like that. “Poetry,” he blurts out.

“Poetry?”

He nods once. No backing out now. “I want you to…teach me some poetry.” Okay, so he’s beating around the bush a little bit, sorry Gwaine. 

Merlin’s eyes flash in understanding. “I’d be more than willing to teach you some poetry, Leon.”

“You will?”

A short nod. “Of course, if it’s what you want.”

“God yes!” he blurts out again and feels his face heat up from that, it earns him a gentle chuckle. “I mean, um, yes, I very much want you to teach me poetry. Please.”

“Very well, when and where?”

“When and…?” he…hadn’t thought that far ahead. His mind blanks suddenly, having used the majority of power on just asking. “Um…”

“How about your chambers?” Merlin offers. “Tonight? If you’re okay with that?”

That sounds good. Tonight, in his room. Yes, good idea. “I-I’m okay with that,” he nods, a small smile on his face. “Tonight, my room.”

“I’ll see you tonight then.” The smile he gives the knight makes his heart tremble in his chest.

Tonight.

*

Leon paces his chambers, his nerves trembling with excitement. After so long - really, it’s only been a few weeks since he caught Arthur and Merlin together - but it feels like forever since that night, since his fantasies started. And they’re finally coming true, he’s finally going to have Merlin in his bed.

He’s so happy that he could burst!

 _knock knock._ He jumps and turns sharply to face the door. 

“Leon?” it’s Merlin. He’s here. Oh God, he’s actually here.

And he’s waiting.

He rushes to the door, then takes a moment to gather himself. He’s been thinking about this all day. “Hello,” he greets, surprisingly casual, as he opens the door.

Merlin stands there, a gentle smile on his face, wearing his usual outfit. “Evening, Leon,” his voice is low and it sends a shiver down his spine. “Might I come in?”

“Of course,” everything feels normal, almost as though it’s just a simple visit between friends. He stands aside, watching the servant enter, and closes the door. He wonders if he should lock it, then changes his mind. Nobody should bother them…hopefully.

“So…um…” he’s not really sure what to say. The nervousness is back.

Blue eyes glance at him, the younger man is calm. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” he motions to the bed.

Leon nods once. That’s a good place to start. But oh God, what if they’re gonna start? He tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Oh God, it’s actually gonna happen.

“Leon,” a gentle hand touches his shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re just gonna sit for a minute, okay?” 

He nods again and takes a place on the side of his bed, and he looks back at Merlin. The man is taking off his jacket, slowly, and folding it over the back of a chair, then he joins him on the edge of the bed, only sitting next to him.

Merlin’s on his bed. Merlin is on. his. Bed. _Oh God._

And now he’s sweating.

“Leon, it’s okay if you don’t want to do this. We can just sit here and talk, if you’d prefer.”

“What?” he asks dumbly, his eyes shifting quickly to the other. “No! I want to…it’s just…” he feels his face heating.

“You’ve never been with a man before?” the servant offers and he nods, turning his face away to hide his embarrassment. 

Why’s he getting all embarrassed? He’s in his 30’s for fuck’s sake. He’s a seasoned warrior, he’s _killed_ people, he’s _been to war._ He shouldn’t be getting all embarrassed like a…like a…like _fuck!_

A calloused, but soft, hand touches his and he nearly jumps out of his skin. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll start slow, take it easy. We won’t do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

He nods. “C-can I…can we…kiss?” Elyan had said that he started with a kiss, maybe he can too.

Another gentle hand touches his cheek, turning his head so he’s looking at Merlin, and his heart stutters - his eyes are so blue.

“Close your eyes.”

He does, his nerves skyrocketing. And then he feels…he feels soft plump lips touch his, only briefly, and a shuddering breath escapes him. His fingers twitch, taking hold of the hand on his. 

Lips touch again and he leans into it, kissing back. The hand on his face moves to rest on his neck, and he strokes his cheek with his thumb, he’s so gentle, and the eldest knight feels himself relaxing.

They pull apart after what feels both like an eternity and only seconds. He finds himself smiling at his friend. “That was nice, I like it.”

A soft chuckle, “I’m glad.”

“Can we kiss again?”

Another chuckle, “Of course, anything you want, Leon.”

The way he says his name, so sweet, it makes his body tingle. He leans forward, their mouths meeting again, this time he’s firmer, he wants to taste the young man, wants to know what a real kiss with him would be like. 

His tongue slides out, swiping at the other’s mouth, and Merlin complies easily, letting him in, and they explore one another. It’s slow, sweet, not at all like in his fantasies, but he couldn’t be happier.

His free hand goes to the servant’s waist, he pulls him closer, he wants to feel him against his body. Merlin shifts and then he’s straddling him, his legs on either side of him, he’s sitting in his lap, both hands on him, his own hands on a thin waist, one slender hand slides into his strawberry curls.

They pull apart again, breath coming in short gasps, foreheads resting together. He’s still smiling.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Just…wow.”

Merlin smiles back, his eyes glittering. “You’re not as nervous anymore.”

He’s right, he isn’t as nervous, he’s more relaxed, he can feel it. He’s also a bit warm too, and the proximity with the younger man isn’t helping matters, but he’s not worried or nervous about it anymore.

“I wanna go all the way,” he says, “But you take the lead.” 

“Are you sure?”

He nods once. “Yes, I am. And I’m in your hands. Teach me this poetry I’ve heard about.” Oh yeah, he’s definitely relaxed, for sure. And he definitely wants Merlin to take the lead here because while he may be a warrior, he’s got no experience with men.

“Very well, if that’s your wish,” his hands shift, sliding down his body to his hips, and slender fingers take hold of the hem on his nightshirt.

Leon complies, pulling the shirt up and off, and those hands are on his chest now, one resting over his heart - can he feel how his heart is trying to break through his rib cage?

“You’ve a beautiful body, Leon,” he breathes, shifting to kiss a trail along his jaw. “All hard muscle from years of training as a knight. Simply _beautiful.”_

He feels his face heat at that, “Th-thanks,” and the stutter’s back. Great.

That wonderful mouth stops on his neck, sucking his skin lightly, and the hands are caressing his torso, a set of fingers starts playing with a nipple. His fingers are electric again, like when he touched him in the staircase. 

His breath shudders. Oh God, he’s so warm right now.

And he feels something hard against him, between their bodies, Merlin’s hard for him. Merlin is hard. _for. **him.**_ Oh God. And he’s hard too. When did that happen? And now that he’s realized it, his member twitches. 

His breeches are too tight and everything’s so warm. 

His hands move of their own accord, sliding under the faded blue tunic - the skin beneath is soft, smooth, and Merlin removes his hands for a moment to remove the article of clothing. Then those hands are on him again, on his shoulders, and the blue eyes are staring into his own.

“You’re sure you want to go all the way?”

He nods. “Yes, absolutely, please.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Merlin shifts, sliding off his lap but before he can protest, a slender finger is against his mouth. “Patience. Why don’t you lie back and get comfortable, yeah?”

He nods again, just once, and moves off the edge of the bed and onto it, leaning against the pillows, but not before removing his breeches - they’re _too_ tight and he’s _too_ warm. From his place, he watches the younger man unclothe, removing his shoes and breeches, he’s not wearing any socks. 

And Merlin is _beautiful._ His long body is thin but there’s a surprising amount of muscle, his pale skin has a soft of ethereal glow to it in the candlelight, and for once, he’s moving with grace instead of stumbling, and those eyes - they’re brilliant, sparkling like the stars in the night sky, and they’re watching him.

Then, then that beautiful ethereal man is on the bed again, kneeling beside him, pink lips on his mouth, and they’re kissing, slow and sweet. He rests a hand on the younger male, and feels a hand not his own sliding onto his leg. Fingers caress, gliding up his thigh and to his groin, his breath hitches in his throat, his heart stutters as those same fingers flutter over his hard member and then wrap around gently.

 _“Fuck me,”_ he groans, earning a chuckle. The hand pumps him, slow and sweet like the kiss.

“Soon, Leon, soon.” Another kiss, a brief touch of the lips, and Merlin shifts, straddling his thighs. He leans back, there’s a small bottle in his free hand, oil, and in one fluid movement, he unstops the bottle and pours some onto the elder knight’s member.

It’s cool against his heated flesh but it quickly warms, and Merlin shifts again, still straddling him, but he’s also leaning against him, positioning himself so he can take Leon’s member into him.

The knight’s hands move to the narrow hips, moving of their own accord, steadying him, the tip of his member touching a heated hole, and then he’s sliding into Merlin, into a hot cavern with velvet walls, and he leans back into his pillows, breath hitching. 

Soft lips are kissing him, along his jaw and his neck and his collarbone, and a low groan touches his skin as the man above him takes all of him in and eventually settles on his lap. His own hands are caressing the hips, gently, rubbing small circles on soft flesh. 

_“Fuck,”_ the servant curses breathlessly with a quiet moan. 

“You okay, Merlin?” he has to ask, the man is still, his breathing coming quick.

“M-yeah, just gimme a moment,” his voice is low and rough, and the words are barely said. He shifts.

And Leon, his heart is pounding against his ribs again, the cavern around his member is hot, velvet soft and tight, it’s gripping him in a way no woman has ever done, and it makes him want to never leave. His hips twitch, wanting to move, to thrust up, but he controls himself.

And Merlin’s moving again, pulling his own hips up and sliding back down, slow and sweet, and the knight complies, moving with him, and they groan together. The pace is set, they slide together perfectly, hips meeting hips, and Merlin’s member bobs against his stomach, unattended to.

The younger man leans back, hands on the knight’s chest, and the knight looks up at him, mesmerised by the beauty above him. Plump pink lips are parted, the eyes fluttering, pale skin shining, and he wants more.

He _needs_ more. _Now._

With a startled gasp from his partner, he flips their positions in a fluid movement, Merlin’s on his back now beneath him and he’s above, he kisses the pink lips, setting a new pace, a faster pace. 

An arm loops around his shoulders, pulling him ever the more closer, fingers digging into the skin of his back, and the other hand is on his bicep, held firmly, and long legs wrap around him, hooking onto his thighs.

The bed creaks with every thrust, the sound being drowned out by moans of pleasure and the sound of skin slapping skin. 

Leon rises higher and higher, his body electric where the servant touches, heat pools in his gut, the coils tightening, he’s close now, so so close. He shifts, trying to bury himself deeper into the beauty beneath him, and Merlin arches against him, a keening moan pulled from his throat.

 _“There,”_ he gasps, “Harder.”

The knight complies, one hand grips the headboard for support, and he lets loose, he pounds into the velvet heat with force, the breathless moans spurring him on, and he’s finding himself at the edge of euphoria.

The hand on his bicep moves, dipping between their bodies, fingers wrap around a weeping member, pumping rapidly. Merlin climaxes, a soft cry from parted pink lips, his seed spilling on stomach and chest body arching against the knight, and those velvet walls tighten around the invading member, pulling his partner over the edge.

Leon comes hard, muscles tensing, hips flush against hips, painting the servant’s insides white with his seed, filling him to the brim, a low groan yanked from his throat. He rocks with the climax, the velvet walls milking him dry, leaving him breathless, and he can’t hold himself up any longer.

They lay together, Leon on top of Merlin, bodies entwined together, and they pant and gasp, riding the highs of euphoria, and then slowly coming back to reality. 

_“Wow,”_ he breathes. The fantasies he’s been having are nothing compared to the real deal.

 _“Very wow,”_ his partner agrees. Fingers slide into strawberry curls, gentle and just simply, playing with the strands.

He can’t help but relax, burying his face against a pale neck. “Thank you, Merlin,” his voice is rough but a whisper of air.

“Anything for you, Leon.”

He feels the plump lips press against the top of his head and he smiles, content and happy.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, technically the story is done, unless ya'll want some of those extra scenes with Merlin and the other knights. I might write them either way, but who knows? Lemme know if ya'll want the extras or not.
> 
> Also, maybe leave a review? It'd be greatly appreciated. Thanks and I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> Update: Life has gotten busy and I'm unable to write the extra scenes at this moment but one day, they will be written and added. I apologize for the inconvenience.

**Author's Note:**

> So, first chapter done. I'm thinking there's only one more chapter, but that may change if anyone wants extra scenes with Merlin and the other knights (I know I would). Just lemme know if ya'll want the extras or not.


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